


A Baby by Any Other Name

by jagnikjen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jagnikjen/pseuds/jagnikjen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of vignettes that follows the progression of Ginny's pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week Four

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "For the Love of HP: Neville", a LiveJournal Comm.  
> Prompt: Ginny is pregnant and she and Neville are discussing baby names on their own.

The sounds of Hogsmeade didn’t usually bother Ginny while she worked. She watched witches and wizards strolling up and down High Street from her sitting room window even though she and Neville lived on a side street. The leaves of a large aspen tree waved in the light breeze and shafts of sunlight danced across the parchment in front of her.

Ginny sighed and pushed away from her desk and went in search of some digestives. She was having a hell of a time getting this article written. This was the third day she’d felt nauseous and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Perhaps the Chinese food she and Neville had eaten the other evening had been off. She yanked open the cupboard and her arm stilled mid-reach.

Oh, bloody hell—could it be?

She thought back to the last time she’d had her period. Beginning of July it was—they’d celebrated America’s Independence Day on behalf of Ron’s other half with a picnic and swimming, and she’d had to run out and buy tampons in order to swim.

It was now almost her birthday and she should have had her period by now or felt cramps or something. Her heart began fluttering and a huge smile took over her face. Her cycles were as regular as the moon, so circumstances could only mean one thing.

She was finally, finally pregnant.

Tears prickled at her eyes and nose and her chest swelled. She went light-headed.

A baby…she glanced at her stomach and pressed a hand to it.

She and Neville were finally going to have a baby. He’d be ecstatic. They hadn’t bothered with contraception since they’d gotten married since they both wanted children. She’d fully expected to have gotten up the duff right away. She was a Weasley after all. But it hadn’t happened and life went on. Nobody’d asked. She supposed being the youngest of seven and a girl to boot, folks might have thought she wanted to wait a while. She hadn’t necessarily, but the universe had had its own plans.

But she’d better be certain. Muggle pregnancy test or visit to St. Mungo’s?

Better go to St. Mungo’s as Mum remained leery of muggle products. On the other hand, if she went to St. Mungo’s, certain people were likely to find out before she was ready to for them to know. Well, Mum didn’t need to know about the pregnancy test, did she? Besides—she’d likely be able to perform some magic test of her own to confirm it.


	2. Week Six

Ginny pulled the roast chicken from the oven and let it sit for a moment while she nipped through their tiny flat. They lived in one of four flats in a small building in Hogsmeade rather than at Hogwarts. They could have had a fairly spacious suite at the castle, but they’d opted for this small cozy space while it remained the two of them.

The table was set, candles were lit, the flat was actually clean, there were fresh linens on the bed…just in case. Oh, who was she kidding? She liked sex and she liked sex with Neville. They’d cut their sexual teeth together.

A pop sounded outside the door—no floo in this little flat—and Neville entered a moment later.. All six fit feet of him. He looked around, wide-eyed, before a smile slid across his face. Her heart somersaulted at the sight.

“Planning a seduction are we?” he asked, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close. His mouth closed over hers and he lavished a slow deep kiss on her. When it ended, he rested his forehead against hers and said, “You know, Gin, I’m easy when it comes to you. You don’t have to go to all this trouble to get me into bed.”

She smacked his arm. “We’re celebrating, you twat,” she said with a smile.

“I thought we were going to your Mum and Dad’s for your birthday? Happy birthday again, by the way.”

“We are and thank you.” She fingered the diamond pendant he’d given her this morning. She’d thanked him by dragging him back to bed and he’d almost been late for his first class.

“Celebrating huh?”

She nodded.

He looked thoughtful for another moment. “Quidditch Monthly accepted that article you wrote? That’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed her again.

“Yes, actually, and ta, but that’s not what we’re celebrating.” 

“Oh? What then?”

Her practiced words flew out of her head and she said, simply, “I’m pregnant.”

Neville blinked and then he scooped her up, whirled her around, and whooped. “Oh, Ginny, that’s incredible.” He set her to her feet and kissed her yet again, tenderly this time. “When…?” His hands rested on her still-flat stomach and he looked at her with excitement dancing in his light blue eyes.

“The beginning of April.”

“Oh. I meant when did it happen? I mean…” Color suffused his cheeks.

Ginny snorted. “Kinda hard say, love, we have sex a lot.”

“Right, we do, and I think we ought to have celebratory sex, don’t you?”

Ginny kissed him long and hard. “Of course, I do, but I cooked, so there will be eating first.”


	3. Week Seven

The Weasley family sat or lay scattered on blankets around the yard of the Burrow. Because absolutely every Weasley child, grandchild, in-law and honorary member had shown up. There were too many people to fit inside and it was a lovely day. Babies and toddlers napped, younger children chased each other, older children played quidditch, and the adults chattered amongst random groups that kept re-making themselves.

Ginny leant towards Neille, pressing a long kiss to his mouth.

“Oi, Longbottom, that’s my sister,” said Ron with a grin. His ongoing joke.

Ginny added smoochy noises before breaking the kiss to whisper, “No time like the present—before Mum gets up to clean up, yeah?”

Neville nodded.

Ginny clambered to her feet using Neville’s shoulder as a boost. “Hey, everyone. I have an announcement…”

The chatter ebbed to silence and all eyes turned to her.

“Neville made head of Herbology?”asked Arthur, looking pleased on behalf of his son-in-law.

“No. Not yet…”

“Neville made headmaster,” said Ron.

“As far as I know, Headmistress McGonagall is still alive and kicking,” Ginny replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Ginny finally let Neville sleep in the bed again,” suggested Harry and chuckles followed. Neville had properly pissed her off a few months ago. Percy had arrived earlier than expected to drop off Molly and Lucy for the day and had found Neville asleep on the sofa. Percy was a worse gossip than Rita Skeeter.

“That was one night,” argued Neville, going red.

“Ginny’s doing a spread in Playwitch,” called George, waggling his brows.

“George,” gasped Molly, though a twinkle remained in her eyes. Chuckles, snorts, and giggling rang out all around

“Oi—” shouted Ron, sounding properly outraged this time. “That’s our sister.” For a gay man, he was surprisingly prim.

“Just because you don’t fancy the feminine form, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t acknowledge what a fine specimen our sister is.”

“Do you mind?” Ginny shouted. Funny that no one had guessed pregnancy, but they all looked her way once again, going silent. “Quidditch Weekly finally accepted one of my articles.”

The clapping and whistles startled several of the babies, and George and Angelina’s youngest began to cry.

“And we’re having a baby!”she shouted, unable to hold back the ecstatic smile any longer.

The single cheer that sounded roused all the babies, except Baby Albus who did nothing more than shift position.

Mum clapped her hands together at her breast and tears glistened in her eyes. She rose and hugged Ginny. “What wonderful news. You must be so excited. Oh—and Neville, dear…” Mum released Ginny to hug Neville. “I’m so happy for you.”

The family rose almost en masse and one by one hugged Ginny, then Neville, and asked the obligatory questions. How far along was she, when was she due, and how was she feeling.


	4. Week Eleven

There was a knock on the exam room door and Ginny called for whomever it was to come in.

“Good morning, Mrs. Longbottom,” said Dr. Watson, coming in and washing his hands. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Doctor. Thanks.”

“Glad to hear it.” He pulled a tape measure from the drawer. “All right, let’s see how baby’s progressing.”

Ginny bared her already-rounding stomach and watched as the doctor measured across her belly from side to side and then from her pubic bone to the bottom of her sternum.

“Hmm…” he said, pursing his lips and making a note on her chart.

Ginny’s stomach swooped. “Is something wrong?”

He smiled. “No, I don’t think anything’s wrong, per se. There are twins in your family, aren’t there? Your older brothers, I believe?”

She dropped her head back onto the exam table. “Are you bloody kidding me?”

“Well, er, sorry…Your measurements are bigger than they should be for this point in your pregnancy, and since there’s a history of twins, that’s the most likely reason.”

“I can’t believe it…everyone else in my family gets pregnant within three months of marrying or trying.” Charlie and Zoe hadn’t married, much to Mum’s disappointment. “It takes me a year, then when I finally get pregnant, it’s twins?”

Dr. Watson chuckled. “Let’s do a spell and make sure, shall we?”

~*~*~

Ginny whirled into Headmistress McGonagall’s office. 

“Hello, Ginny. Professor Long—” She shook her head and smirked. “—your husband should be in his office. You look…shall we say vexed? Is Neville in trouble—do I need to set up a spare room?”

Ginny grinned and shook her head. “No, I just have some news. I’m sorry to barge in on his day.”

McGonagall’s mirth slid from her face. “Is everything all right with the little one?”

“What? Oh, oh, yes.” Ginny circled her baby bump with her hand. “The babies are fine. If you’ll excuse me.”

“The babies…as in more than one?”

Ginny shrugged and nodded.

“Another pair of Weasley twins. Heaven help us…” Ginny heard McGonagall remark as she exited her office.

~*~*~

Ginny knocked on Neville’s office door and called his name. When he didn’t answer, she headed in the direction of the greenhouses.

He stopped up short at the sight of her, a wrinkle creasing his brow, and then hurried to her side. “Ginny, is everything all right?”

She nodded to allay his initial worry. After scooping her up into a hug, he scanned the immediate vicinity before giving her a proper kiss.

“So, my love, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“I have news.” She rubbed her burgeoning belly.

“Is someth—”

She shook her head. “No, everything’s fine, it’s just…” She looked up into his beloved face. She hoped their babies looked like him. “…there’s two of them.”

He blinked, his mouth opened slightly, and he fought the smile she could clearly see trying to spread across his face. Her heart went soft.

“And you’re not happy about that?” he asked, though she could see he was pleased and trying to be sensitive to her feelings.

“I’m not sure how I feel. I suppose it doesn’t really matter though, does it. It’s not as if I can or would do anything to change it.”

“Of course you wouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be dismayed or scared or worried.”

“And that’s one of the reasons I love you so much, husband.”


	5. Week Twenty-one

The Burrow was full to bursting again, although not everyone was in attendance this time. Mum and Neville were in the back garden discussing Mum’s various flowers as fall was quickly giving way to winter.

Ginny, with the help of Angelina, Ron and Allen, Ron’s partner, had taken over dinner preparations as it was Mum’s birthday. Dad had taken several of the younger grandchildren out to his work shed to play with the muggle toys he’d collected over the years. The older ones were zipping around on brooms.

George, Bill, and Fleur were setting the tables.

Finally, dinner was ready and everyone took their places. Chatter and laughter filled the Burrow.

Halfway through the meal, there was a lull in the conversation as everyone seemed to be chewing at the same time.

“So have you two decided on names yet?” asked Allen.

Neville shook his head. “We haven’t given it much thought yet.”

“How about George?” said George. “It’s a great name.”

“I’m not naming my child after you, you twat,” said Ginny.

“How about Chesel?”

“Chesel?” asked Neville, looking confused.

Ron shrugged, shoveling in a bite.

“Dumbledore,” said Mum.

“God rest his soul, but no,” said Neville. Ginny agreed. He was a great wizard, but the name was a little too old-fashioned for her tastes.

“How about Arthur?” asked Dad, looking part abashed, part hopeful.

“It’ll go on the list, Dad,” said Ginny. If there was anyone in the family she’d name her baby after, it’d be her dad.

“How about Harry and Hermione if you get one of each?”

Ginny grimaced. “Um…no.”

“Hadrian.”

“Astrid.”

“James.”

“Penelope.”

“Lark.”

“Christopher.”

Ginny rolled her eyes or shook her head after each suggestion.

“How about Randall,” said Allen. “You could call him Randy for short.”

George spit out the swig of pumpkin juice he’d just swallowed and guffawed.

Everyone else laughed as well.

“What?”Allen looked genuinely perplexed.

Ron leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then whispered in his ear.

Allen flushed red. “Oh, geeze, oh, my goodness… I’m so sorry. Of course you don’t want to name your child that…”


	6. Week Thirty-two

Ginny’d watched the snow fall throughout the day. She rubbed the curve of her stomach, feeling the responding nudge of one of the babies. Only eight weeks or so until her little bundles of joy arrived. Despite her initial shock and panic over having twins, she was now thrilled. She’d envied George and Fred’s closeness. Being the only girl made it difficult to connect with her brothers, and she’d lived a rather solitary existence until she’d gone to Hogwarts. She was grateful to have sisters-in-law, as well as Hermione these days.

Even so, Neville’d been her best friend ever since sixth year while Hermione, Harry, and Ron had been off searching for horcruxes. That had been a horrid year and without Neville’s strength, she doubted she’d have made it through. It’d been nothing but friendship for most of the year, but there’d been a day… Neville had snuck her out of the castle and they’d wandered the hills near the Shrieking Shack under a few spells enjoying the unexpected spring-like day. Neville’d kissed her that day. Everything had changed that day, and while Harry would always hold a special place in her heart, it was Neville who actually held her heart.

Speaking of Neville…she glanced at the clock. He should be home soon.

~*~*~

After dinner, Neville sat on the sofa and Ginny lay with her head in his lap. He played with her hair with one hand and caressed her stomach with the other. “I suppose we should talk about names soon,” he said.

“We should…the babies could come at any time now.” Ginny wound her fingers through Neville’s. “Did you have something you particularly liked?”

“I’ve always liked flower names for girls. Iris, Posy, Laurel.”

“Pansy?” asked Ginny, raising a brow and smirking.

“Oh, please. You know how I feel about Pansy Parkinson.”

“I know, love, just teasing you.”Ginny lifted their joined hounds to her mouth and kissed his wrist. She felt the mild shiver. “I’m not opposed to flower names, but none of those sound exactly right to me. What about Gwendolyn or Guinevere?”

“Those aren’t flower names,” Neville said with a chuckle.

“True. If they’re both girls, we could use both names.” She shook her head a moment later. “Well, now that I’m thinking about it, those are rather long names by themselves, but paired with Longbottom? Poor darlings.”

Neville laughed. “Yeah. Maybe not. How about Elizabeth, Anne, Victoria or Margaret after the muggle royal family?”

“Maybe… What about Alice, after your mum, love?” She looked up into his blue eyes, filled with so much love for her.

He opened his mouth to speak and swallowed. “That’s a lovely sentiment, Ginny, really, but I don’t want to name any of our children directly after family. Maybe middle names, but not first names. I don’t want our kids trying to live up to someone or live down something someone else has done. It’ll be hard enough as it is being a Longbottom and a Weasley.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Unless you want to honor your dad should we have a boy…”

“No, no, I agree. Someone will get their feelings hurt. I say no family names although Dad will be disappointed. But I’ll talk to him.”

Ginny rolled to her side, then got up on all fours, before straddling Neville’s lap. She cupped his face and placed a tender kiss to his lips. “I love you, Neville Longbottom. There’s no one I’d rather be having babies with.”


	7. Week Thirty-six

Ginny woke, blinking into the darkness. Neville snored softly next to her. The clock in the sitting room chimed four. This was the third time she’d wakened tonight—goodness, she was ready for these babies to be born. One last trip to the loo, then back to sleep for a few more hours. Hopefully.

She rolled to her side, then swung her feet and legs over the side of the bed as she pushed herself upright. With a hand curled around the lower curve of her stomach, she got to her feet. Warm liquid flowed down her legs and she gasped. “Neville,” she said, soft but urgent. Oh, Merlin, it was happening… That would explain the chronic discomfort and multiple trips to the loo.

Neville sat straight up. “What is it, love?”

“My water just broke. I need Mum and the midwife.”

He was by her side in a trice. “All right,” he said. “What do you need before I go after your mum?”

Ginny cried out, then clutched at her belly and hunched forward. 

Neville slid an arm around her shoulder and allowed her to grasp his other hand. “Was that a contraction?’

She nodded through her deep breathing. As the pain finally eased, she said, “I still need the loo.”

Neville walked her to the small bathroom and waited just outside the slightly open door, then he helped her back into bed. “Are you ready for me to be gone for a few minutes?”

A groan escaped her and she gripped Neville’s hands. She panted through another pain, but shook her head.

“I’ll just send an owl to the midwife and a patronus to your mum, yeah?”

Ginny collapsed against the pillows. “Don’t leave me, Neville.”

“I won’t, love.”

Ginny closed her eyes and listened as Neville got dressed and then wrote a quick note and sent Nigel to the midwife’s.

With a flick of his wand and some strong or happy thought, he said, “Expecto patronum.”The cloudy image of a retriever floated in the dim room. “Ginny’s in labor, I can’t leave her. I’ve sent an owl to the midwife. Please come,” said Neville. With another flick of his wand, the dog bounded out of sight.

He returned to her side and took her hand. “What can I do for you?”

She blinked her eyes open and looked up into his beloved face, his concerned eyes. “You’re doing it. You’re here. Just stay. Promise me, whatever they say, you won’t leave.”

~*~*~

“It’s a girl,” said the midwife. She clipped the umbilical cord and handed the baby to Molly. “Here you are, Grandma.”

Molly placed the baby next to Ginny on the bed and cleaned her up. A small cry sounded through the room and they exchanged teary eyed glances. “She’s beautiful, Ginny.” Molly scooted her close so that both Ginny and Neville, at Ginny’s back, could see and touch her.

“Look,”said the midwife, pointing at Ginny’s slightly deflated stomach. They watched it shift and move. “Your other baby is getting into position…you should start feeling contractions again shortly.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny delivered her second child. It was a boy.

“Congratulations, Mum and Dad. Your babies are perfect.”


	8. Week Thirty-nine

After getting the twins registered at the Ministry, the small group of parents, grandparents, and godparents arrived at the Burrow to find it decorated festively. Most of the family was gathered as were Harry and Hermione and their significant others. Tons of food had been prepared and set out.

The twins were ensconced in their matching prams, which had also been decorated with balloons, small stuffed animals, and baby toys. A mound of brightly wrapped gifts sat upon a garden table.

Everyone peered at and gushed over the the newest members of the Weasley and Longbottom families. Ginny and Neville were hugged and kissed as well. Once the hoopla died down and everyone had a seat and a plate of food, Harry asked, “So…are you ever going to tell us the names of these babies?”

Everyone chuckled.

“Of course we are. So, baby girl is Ailith Eryn and baby boy is Aslan Oliver.”

“Those are beautiful,” said Hermione, smiling.

“And unusual. A bit of a departure from the names of you and your brothers,” said Angelina, leaning close to nudge George with her shoulder.

Neville nodded. “Well, we wanted something different, but not too different.”

“They’re perfect, said Molly, with a wide smile, “and so are my newest grandbabies.”

Allen lifted his glass and said, “To Ailith and Aslan.”

Everyone lifted their glasses as well and repeated. “Ailith and Aslan.”

~Fin~


End file.
